


nowhere to go, but up

by uwu_itshoshi



Series: Chronicles of New Seoul [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Child NCT Dream, Culture Shock, Dysfunctional Family, Everyone Has Issues, Everyone Is Gay, F/M, Gay Parents, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Kunten is underrated, M/M, Mark Lee (NCT) is Whipped, Modern Family AU, New York City, No mpreg, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Parenthood, hansol exists sorta, it's so domestic, there are so many people i didn't tag, twitter did this, you weirdos
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-07-06 10:59:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15884685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uwu_itshoshi/pseuds/uwu_itshoshi
Summary: excerpts from the lives of the residents in neo condos, their sons, and a college kid named jungwoo. From ptsd, to illegal pets, to friendships blossoming into something more- they've seen it all.[can be read as a stand alone]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> every family is different, with different issues, but they all love each other, i promise :)

7:36 am  
Neo Culture Tech Condos 

“Wake the FUCK up Wong Yukhei,” Ten growled at his eldest son. Since birth, the kid had trouble waking up on time. At two, it was kinda cute how his big eyes would be cloudy with sleep, and at five his pout gained the little monster a few extra minutes- it was at twelve, Ten got his first pillow to the face. Yeah, it’s not cute anymore.

As Ten was about to resort to ‘physical persuasion’, a tall head of light brown poked in the room.

“Yukhei, sweetheart?” Kun’s melodious ‘mom’ voice called. Ten’s heart swole unhealthily at the sight of the ugly pinstripe apron over Kun’s college sweatshirt. “I made bacon bāozi just for you,”

Of course, at the thought of food, any teenage boy is automatically awake.

Upon being kicked out of his son’s room, Ten back hugged his husband all the way down the hallway leading into their kitchen.

He groaned dramatically, “God, I love you.” The elder’s back shook with what Ten could imagine were unfiltered giggles that caused his sweet smile to show full force. 

“ 我愛你.” Kun hummed back. They waddled into the kitchen, Ten still glued to the other’s back. What they saw wasn’t normal for most, but what was normal in a world where they existed?

Renjun and Chenle sat on opposite sides of their round kitchen table, fully dressed and firing away taps or scratches repeatedly. The couple stood in awe of their sons. Renjun glared at his little brother, hitting the table so hard, Kun grew worried for the safety of his hand. The youngest let out a screech that put whistles to shame.

“Say it to my face, snaggletooth!”

“Zhong Chenle!” Ten gasped, coming out from around his husband. “Apologise.”

The twelve year old shook his head stubbornly, causing a frown to deepen on his father’s face.

“He started it Baba. He said my head is big.” Ten nearly snickered, before remembering his husband standing right beside him.

“But māmā!” Renjun turned to his other father, hoping to earn sympathy. The adults hated it when their youngests pit them against one another, but the kids deserve some credit: they were damn good at it. That’s why as soon as Kun heard his name, he turned his back to the dumplings, pretending like he didn’t notice the pout in his son’s voice. 

Before Chenle could throw a signature hissy fit (at the grand age of twelve), Yukhei came downstairs.

“Morning mama, baba. What’s cookin’?” He said, sounding like he belonged on MTV.

“Yukhei, zǎoshang hǎo. Shuì dé ānwěn?” Ten smirked, leaning on the counter, watching as his son shot him a dirty look from his seat between his brothers. Kun grinned to himself, as the ‘Mandarin Game’ was initiated and it’s primary rule was that you COULD NOT be the first to respond in english.

Before Kun came into their life, Ten didn’t mind that Yukhei didn’t want anything to do with their culture. The pair lived in Hong Kong for the first five years of his life, before they relocated to Bangkok for 2 years, where Yukhei spent most of the time with Ten’s grandparents. At nine years old, the duo finally packed up and went back to New York. Living in Chinatown wasn’t the same and needless to say, Yukhei wasn’t the same either. Ten became complacent in this new boy, Lucas, even though he was the epitome of an AmericanBornChinese.

Complacency became difficult when he married Kun.

Kun practically shoved China down his own son’s throats, and his stepson was no different. “Dad” became “Baba”, tuesday nights became mandarin nights where speaking english gets you grounded, omelets became jiǎo- Yukhei rose from his ashes and Lucas never stepped foot in that house. When Ten said he loved Kun, he meant that shit.

“Uh,” Yukhei’s scrambled. “Měiwèi de?”

The younger siblings tried to stifle their giggles, Yukhei himself eventually joining in. Ten shook his head, sending a pleading glance towards his husband. The latter shrugged, setting four dumplings on the sixteen year old’s plate, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

“Gòu hǎole.”

 

. . .

Taeyong yawned, stretching his arms over his head. His eyes droop once again. This time, he nearly falls over into the boiling water with 4 eggs inside. Luckily a pair of arms pull him back by his waist.

“Yongie-hyung! Are you okay?” Jungwoo tittered nervously. Whether or not the elder wanted to admit it, he saw Taeyong had gotten next to no sleep last night. The walls were thin enough that he could hear his hyung’s whispered raps late into the night. “You don’t have to cook for us, you know. I know how to boil eggs.”  
“N-no, Jungwoo.” He slurred. “I’m okay. Promise.” Jungwoo didn’t believe him and evidently neither did Jisung.

“Hyung, you don’t stheem too good.” He said warily. Both men jumped at the sound of the eleven year old’s lispy speech, both honestly forgetting he was at the table. 

Taeyong faked a laugh that was a little too uneven, not ready to expose his late nights to the innocent boy just yet. “Since when did you start calling people hyung, Jisung-ah.” Though, korean american like his elder brother, he hadn’t tried their native speech until Korean foreign exchange student, Kim Jungwoo taught him. Now, he couldn’t live without knowing a new Korean word everyday.

“I’ve been calling you hyung for months now.”

“Huh didn’t notice.”

The younger sighed, and Jungwoo offered him a comforting smile.

“Yong-hyung?” 

“Yeah?” The college student grabbed Taeyong by the hand. At the beginning of the summer, he would have turned into a ripe tomato at the contact, but he learned skinship was not a Korean thing- but a Jungwoo thing.

“How about we go see if McDonalds has room for three more-”

“IHOP! IHOP! IHOP!” Jisung chanted, dancing around the pair, his sixth grader backpack slapping against his back. They all laughed and Jungwoo squeezed Taeyong’s hand, who grabbed Jisung’s.

He’d have to tell Ten about this later.

“Let me go get my sweater,” Jungwoo kissed the back of Taeyongs hand, slipping his own out gently. “And I’ll drive.”

Actually, there were somethings Ten didn’t need to know.

. . .

“Dad, can you pass the orange juice?”

“Only if you can tell me what dictionaries eat for breakfast-”

“Synonym rolls,” Mark smirked, sticking his hand out. “Orange juice please.” 

Johnny slid the orange juice over to his son, a goofy smile taking over his features. Mark’s smirk turned goofy too until it was just a whole exchange of domestic clownery that was too much- even for the self proclaimed King himself. So Taeil groaned dramatically, flopping on his husband’s lap. His owl coffee mug, with a wing for a handle, was grasped in one hand while his phone rested in the other.

“You guys are dorks,” he mumbled. Not even a second into Instagram browsing, Johnny plucked the phone from his hold.

“Your dorks,” Johnny pointed out, peppering his face in kisses. Mark watched his dad, in not only pride, but jealousy. He wished that one day he’d find that with the right girl. One he could make as happy as his stepfather always seemed to be.

In reality, his stepfather was squirming on his husband’s lap, owl mug abandoned. The man of 5”7 stature had his face wrinkled in annoyance, trying desperately to get his phone back when his husband towered over him by an entire five inches and had the arm extension of a human selfie stick. After a few moments of struggling, he finally gave up, sliding down in Johnny’s lap.

“Aw is my baby mad?” Johnny cooed. He received silence, Mark snickering behind his glass. “C’mon Tae, I was just messing ‘round!” He whined. Taeil’s lips only pursed further, as he turned his head away in defiance. The action was too cute for comfort. Johnny’s heart flipped slightly as he placed a large hand on his love’s smooth skin, connecting their lips in a slow kiss. To both it was reminiscent of their wedding night. Warily pulling back, the couple gazed at each other for a second.

As much as he denied it, Taeil would be the first to admit: he loves his life. Nothing was better than their family breakfasts complete with Johnny’s unstoppable dad jokes, or morning prayers courtesy of Mark. Moments like this, he wishes to freeze time for five years. Only then would he have enough time to soak in the warmth and love- 

“Okayyy,” Mark called loudly, hoping one of the adults would break the gross eye contact permeating the room.

. . .

“Morning Otousan.”

“Mornin’ Jaemin.”

The crunch of cereal was the loudest thing in the living room, their small flat screen TV playing Friends on a low volume. Just as Ross was about to ruin another relationship, a figure passed by the living room. The person tiptoed but it was too late, as Jaemin rolled his eyes and turned back to the show.

“Bye, Sicheng.” The blonde man visibly cringed before quickly waving and speed walking out the door, to what Jaemin hoped would be his own apartment.

“For the record,” Jaemin glanced Yuta, who already seemed to be looking at him. “I don’t mind you and your habits, but please refrain from doing it in our house.”

Yuta nodded thoughtfully. 

“I can’t leave you here alone,”

“The nightmares are getting better.”

“I never said they weren’t.”

“You should trust me,”

“I never said I don’t.”

“But you never say you do.”

“That’s because I don’t.”

“Understandable.”

And for awhile the silence was comfortable.

“Y’know, Ross is an asshole. Kinda reminds me of Mark.”

“I thought you two were friends.”

“We are.”

“Understandable.”

And every time, they understood.

. . .

Donghyuck slid into his kitchen, where his Appa and Dad were taking turns shoving snacks into the Star Wars and Wizard’s of Waverly Place lunch boxes laid out before them (Jeno had begged them to just use paper bags but Appa insisted that it was a disgusting way to get germs and he’d be carrying Yoda until he turned twenty) Once in awhile the couple spoke fondly to one another over the Elvis record playing out. 

“Hello family, I’m here, I’m queer, and-” He yelped as a flesh-like blindfold blocked off all forms of light.

A faux deep voice asked, “Guess who?” Donghyuck knew that stupid voice anywhere!

“KRYSTAL!” He spun around, to see his aunt’s joyous face, leaping into her arms. 

“Duckie, I missed you so much.” She held her nephew at arms length, missing the snap of her brother in law’s phone camera (for Instagramming of course). Her eyes focused on raking over every inch of his lithe figure, dropping her hands down softly as their eyes met. As much as little thirteen year old Duckie had grown, the newest addition to fourteen year old Donghyuck was a mess of gold glitter on his eyelids. 

He watched as her eyes found his secret within two seconds of contact.

“Oh honey...” Donghyuck’s cheeks grew warm, then hot, and eventually unbearably red. The boy sprinted upstairs, shoulder bumping into his brother. Jeno looked questioningly at the Jung-Kim household. Krystal took off after her nephew, slowing to give the elder twin a quick hug.

Doyoung shared a look with his husband, Jaehyun glancing between the stairs and the other. He opened his mouth, pausing before pointing out, “Those are-”

“My genes, yes. We know.” Jaehyun raised his hands in surrender.

Jeno sidled up between his parents, “Need help?” he smiled his puppy like smile, dimples mirroring his Dad’s. The same Dad looking smugly to Doyoung who simply rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, kiddo we do.”

 

Donghyuck sat on the counter, Krystal between legs, the memory of his childhood flashing through his brain. Images of watching Krystal and Victoria do their makeup while sitting on this same counter.

“Almost done, duckling.” his aunt mumbled in reassurance. It was probably because Hyuck’s fidgeting was ruining her hard work-

“And done! Take a look.”

Donghyuck could… recognise himself. But it wasn’t all him. There was a nude smokey eye ending in a deep chocolate around the outer corners of his eyes. His eyebrows were a lot straighter and blonder to accentuate the honey brown he dyed his wavy bowl cut this summer. The brown brought out the pink in his shirt, all of which made him feel like a fucking pixie.

Krystal leaned her chin on his shoulder, squeezing his biceps in a back hug. Their eyes caught in the mirror.

“This is highschool Donghyuck. If you’re gonna be chaotic, you gotta do it right.”

Lee might’ve been his surname, but he never felt prouder to be a Jung.

/////uwu/////

8:02 am  
Seo Taiji Intermediate Academy

Donghyuck and Jeno waved goodbye to Krystal one last time, watching her disappear inside of the school. Jeno turned, putting a warm arm around Donghyuck.

“Nice eye… stuff.” Jeno spoke sincerely.

“Thanks,” The younger twin chuckled, patting his brother on the shoulder. In an instant, a voice was heard behind them.

Renjun stood in all his, arms interlocked with Jaemin’s. Upon Donghyuck turning around, both caught on and Renjun gasped while Jaemin pinched Donghyuck’s cheek.

“Gyeoooo,” The youngest cooed in a high pitched minimal Korean accent. Unlike Donghyuck and Jeno, Jaemin wasn’t quite fluent in his ethnic language but he definitely knew a lot of slang.

Mark skated up, looking like an extra from an Avril Lavigne video, yet still finding a way to make Donghyuck’s heart flutter. He flipped his board up and gave a sweet smile. Something had to go wrong soon. Not that Donghyuck went around looking for reasons to dislike Mark (yes the hell he did) but everyone knew well enough, that life liked to screw with the sixteen year old. And screw with him it did.

Honk.

Honkhonk.

HONK. “Mark, you forgot your lunch in the car!” The fourteen year olds around him snickered, Donghyuck included, because hey. Who doesn’t enjoy the suffering of others?

Mark cringed and glanced back only to see a tan muscular man talking to Johnny through the window of the car. 

“Wassup man,” A familiar deep voice called from beside him. He looked at his outstretched bento box (compliments of masterchef Taeyong), letting his eyes trail up the muscular arm holding it, paused to thank god for sleeveless shirts, and stopped at the puppy like grin.

“Thanks for grabbing this, Lucas.” He mumbled shyly, resting his board underneath his arm.

“Nada problemo Mark! Oh gang’s pulled up mad early today- well have a great freshy year baby bro, baby bro’s dude friends. Esketit!” The group of freshman watched, dumbfounded as Lucas jogged away to a group of white kids who look like they belong in an ad for Proactive™.

Jaemin was the first to speak. “Anybody know what the fuck he just said?”

“Not a goddamn clue,”

“Somewhat.”

“Trying living with that for four whole years.”


	2. Goodnight, Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johnny is a knight in shining Armani.  
> [johnil centric]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place long before the last chapter, Mark is still a whole embryo.

 

A soft cry rang out through the church. It was Taeil’s mom, of course. The only one on his side of the family who knew of Taeil’s current predicament.

 

You see, Taeil is gay. He first realised when he’d heard George Michael on his mom’s Walkman. Needless to say thirteen year old Taeil told his best friend-his mother. That was the night he and his mom knew the arranged marriage older than the teen himself, had to be terminated. Yet here he was, at an altar, twenty years old, about to marry a stuck up woman for money.

 

Johnny had other plans.

 

Outside, the middle musketeer was between frantically checking his phone and nearly absorbing all the gel he put in his hair by simply running his hands through it too many times. The church was a fairly large one with a grassy lawn in an expensive neighbourhood he couldn’t fathom living in. His makeshift groomsmen were no help in calming the storm raging in his core. Jaehyun leaned on the wet brick of the chapel, dusk rain of late summer in New York City staining his only gray suit. Sehun stood next to him, half smoked blunt between his lips, occasionally slapping Johnny’s hand away from his head.

 

“You’re ruining my masterpiece,” he explained when Johnny shot him a glare. It’s true that the guy was absolute shit at doing his own mane, choosing to just cut off the sides and let his fringe grow out. Not the best look to have as a wedding crasher, but he hoped a borrowed Armani suit would make up for the (accidental) bad boy visuals.

 

Sehun passed the drug to Jaehyun, Johnny eyeing it warily. “You can’t smoke on your wedding day, Youngho.”

 

“First, don’t call me that.” Johnny grimaced. “Second, I know that. I don’t wanna be fucking high when I commit myself to the love of my life but maybe a little buzz wouldn’t hurt-” Just then, a little ping sounded like the death sentence Johnny never asked for.

 

“S’from Doyoung,” Jaehyun looked up from his phone at the two expectant faces. “Crunch time.”

  


 Taeil, on the flip side, was about to cry. Marrying a woman he knew nothing about (Other than her name: Jeon Leia. It left a bad taste on his tongue), being forced to bare her children, wasting his life away as CEO of a hotel empire and becoming an alcoholic like his father-

 

“You okay, Moon? You look sick,” Leia hissed from under her veil. The annoyance on her face was evident to only him and maybe the priest. Somewhere inside him the gentleman was crying for release, as to not completely destroy his faux fiance’s feelings, but he shoved that part down. Instead, Taeil gave nothing more than a curt nod.

 

They continued to listen to the priest ramble endlessly.

 

“Do you, Jeon Soon Kyung, take Moon Tae Il to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

 

Finally, the part he’d been waiting for! Without hesitation, Taeil tapped his toe two times. Upon sight of the signal, Doyoung sent out a damning text to his own husband outside.

 

“I do,” She smiled. It was beautiful, but Taeil was both gay and hyper analytical. Therefore, he could tell a fake bitch when he saw one; right now, he wished this one wasn’t invading the entirety of his vision with her colgate teeth and superior face.

 

“Do you Moon Tae Il, take Jeon Soon Kyung to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

 

“I…” he glanced discreetly at the door, and though the ceremony full of people he didn’t give a shit about didn’t see his eyes, Leia did. Nothing happened and he openly sighed. “I do.”

 

The priest seemed satisfied enough to proceed, “If anyone has an objec-”

 

“I OBJECT!” Johnny burst through the door, hand raised. The crease between his eyebrows screamed determination, plump lips set in a harsh line. The corner’s of Taeil’s lips curved upwards dreamily, a small chuckle escaping at the overwhelming shock permeating the church. Old women clutching their pearls, elderly men confused, and some of the married women ogling Johnny. Taeil couldn’t blame them; black Armani with the first few buttons of the white shirt unbuttoned, sleek black undercut, and minimal dark eyeshadow- he looked like hell in a 6 foot bottle.

 

“Jeon Soonkyung, who on God’s green earth is this?” He father growled, effectively gaining the attention of all hundred people in the church. Including Johnny himself.

 

“Actually,” Johnny interjected. The man walked forward, straight up to his boyfriend. Johnny took one of the rings off of his own left hand, bending down on his parallel knee. “I’m here for Taeil.” More gasps made their way through the house of God. One of them being Taeil’s own.

 

The elder recognised the ring as one he’d been looking at since childhood. His grandmother’s. His ajumma was never a delicate woman, preferring a plain silver band with a moon engraved than anything special. But this ring _was_ special. Beside the little crescent moon was a single “T”. Whether it was for “Taeho” or “Taeil”, it  didn’t matter. Perhaps it was for them both. Taeil didn’t care. Johnny was proposing with his grandmother’s ring and he had a bunch of angry wedding guest staring holes into him.

 

“Let’s go,” He snatched the band, slipping it on his right hand. The same hand slipped into Johnny’s own and pulled him off the floor. Quickly he bowed to Leia, who was angrily ranting to her bridesmaids. Then, he bowed to all the guests saying a “thank you” in Korean before speedily exiting the chapel, Doyoung hot on his tail. Sehun sat in the driver’s seat of a porsche rank with weed and air freshener.

 

Doyoung bounded into shotgun, the couple holding hands in the backseat.

 

Taeil sat dizzy with adrenaline when Sehun asked, “You guys ready?” In his haze, that meant a lot more than intended.

 

One thing Taeil loved about Johnny, is that big mind of his.

 

“Yeah,” Johnny simpered. “I think we are.”

 

* * *

 

They got married on campus.

 

Johnny’s side of the field sat his entire group of friends from high school (sans Sehun), his parents, Taeyong, his friend and stylist Sunny, a few older acquaintances due to his work out buddy Taemin; all were gathered on a quilt made of Johnny’s childhood blankets. It took his mom a month to make one just for the day, but her love for her son trumped any sore fingers.

 

Her love for Taeil was another story. When Johnny had told his mother that Taeil’s parents weren’t attending and how devastating it had been to him, the mother hen grasped the elder in her arms and promised him she’d do something spectacular. Spectacular it was.

 

The woman had made a blanket the same size as Johnny’s quilt, out of the most plush fabric he’d ever felt. Embroidered in the middle of the baby blue cotton was a yellow “T” nearly identical to the one on his ring. It was perfect, and the sentiment had him teary when he showered Momma Seo in praises.

 

On Taeil’s side, the girls from the Red Velvet karaoke, the brothers Sicheng and Kun, Yuta, nine noonas from the Lionheart salon, and Kyuhyun aka Taeil’s favorite professor shared the massive blanket. Eighteen people, matched with Johnny’s twenty, made for a grand total of thirty-eight people watching the two get married. Not counting their groomsmen (Sehun and Amber; Doyoung and Jaehyun). And the e-certified priests themselves, admissions officers Heechul and Hani.

 

“I see you’ve already exchanged rings,” Hani teased. The small crowd laughed and a warm feeling spread through Taeil. He knew everyone and everyone knew him, and he didn’t know much, but he knew _this_ is how you’re supposed to feel on your wedding day.

 

“Good, that speed things up. Say what you will and add ‘I do’ to the end. You first Youngho,” Heechul commanded. The experienced man gave Johnny a brotherly pat on the shoulder as punctuation.

 

Johnny simply rolled his eyes.

 

“I don’t know why people insist on calling me Youngho,” He huffed childishly.

 

“Hey!” His father called from his place on the quilt. “I gave you that name!’’

 

Johnny glanced at his dad sheepishly. “Sorry dad, I prefer John.”  His mother stuck her tongue out childishly from her spot leaning on Appa Seo. Shaking his head at the two, the twenty year old looked back at his fiance with stars in his eyes.

 

“Why do you love me if I’m a combination of them, with an eighth of the brain cells? It’s like one of the world’s biggest mysteries.”

 

“I have my reasons,” The other mused softly.

 

“I don’t.” Johnny shrugged bluntly. Doyoung stifled a snicker and Yeri inhaled sharply. “I don’t know why I can’t live without you, but I’ll do anything to make you stay. I’ll listen to your endless moon puns, let you eat brunch with my mother even though all you two do is gossip and talk shit about me- yeah i know about that,” He glared playfully at his mom. “I’ll watch you flirt endlessly with Sicheng,” The latter let out an indignant cry, only to be shushed by his elder brother. Johnny’s joking smile turned into a fond look, reminiscence etched into his face.

 

“I’ll drive down to the coast at midnight every full moon so we can soak up the rays of moonlight until 3 am. I’d do it every year, twelve times a year, until the moon falls from the sky, if it makes you happy. I, Johnny Youngho Seo, take you Moon Taeil, to be my motherfucking husband baby.”

 

“JOHNNY! LANGUAGE.”  He chose to ignore Junmyeon, in favor of sliding the wedding band on top of the promise ring and engagement ring.

 

Taeil looked up at the love of his life through a layer of wetness over his eyes. “Guess it’s my turn, huh?” he managed a small watery laugh. Doyoung and Jaehyun stood behind him, sharing a bouquet and holding hands, the latter squeezing Taeil’s forearm.

 

“I’d like to say I’m sorry in advance for psychoanalyzing you,” He said hesitantly. This drew chuckles from their friends. Taking the boost of confidence, he went on, “Thank you, just in case I forget to say it in the future, for loving me without reason. Sure you’ll never call me ‘hyung’ because we grew up in two vastly different worlds, but when we have kids, I bet you’ll be an amazing dad. You’ve had great examples after all. I-” he paused collecting his thoughts. Winging it had worked up to now but, for once, Taeil knew exactly what he wanted to say. “I need you. Codependency is shitty but oh my god, I need you. I do.”

 

Now it was Johnny’s turn to be misty eyed; Sehun calling him a pussy behind his back, and Amber pinching the former. At the same time Sehun yelped, Johnny dove down to engulf his lover in a salty tear laden kiss.

 

“What ever happened to ‘by the power vested in me’?” Doyoung grumbled.

 

Heechul and Hani both turned to glare at him through sobs nobody had noticed, “Shut up.” they clung to each other sniffling like fools and watching the couple eat each other’s faces. Their friends opened up individual silk bags, pulling out tons of white petals.

 

Johnny pulled away, cradling Taeil’s face, and looked to his mom. She smiled and he grinned back.

 

“I now pronounce you, lawfully wedded homosexuals!”

.

* * *

 

 

After ridding themselves of the orchid petals (most of them at least), their party moved back to the Seo home. The house wasn’t particularly spacious, with it’s single floor and two bathrooms, but it was home and that’s all they needed. Besides, Johnny knew from teenage experience that the house had enough room for a banger or two.

 

From congratulatory speeches to song dedications, to so many toasts that there had been a temporary two hour ban on them.

 

As soon as Seulgi, Kibum, Heechul, and Amber prepared to bust out their rendition of Born This Way, Taeil dragged Johnny out into the back yard where Taeyeon, Sicheng, and Mrs. Seo sat talking about how men didn’t deserve them. Johnny spotted the half empty bottle of wine on the table and assumed the obvious, “Eomma go inside.”

 

“W-” hiccup. “Why?”

 

“Appa needs you to meet him in your room.” His mom squealed something about getting frisky to the other two who pouted.

 

“Taeyeon, the girls are giving Amber a makeover. Winwin, Yuta said something about a threesome, if you’re into that.”

 

The two drunk fools practically climbed over each other to get to the patio door.  


“Nice work, Mr. Moon.” Taeil squeezed lightly on Johnny’s hand.

 

“Thank you Mr. Seo.” Johnny exhaled and squeezed back.

 

There they stood, in the dead of night. A comfortable silence engulfed the newlyweds. Suddenly music came through the speakers in the backyard, startling the smaller. Johnny stifled a giggle and made a mental note to get the 'play' button fixed. Wrapping his arms around his _husband’s_ waist, he listened as the Maroon 5 CD cried out into the peaceful darkness. They swayed side to side to a [song](https://youtu.be/nIjVuRTm-dc) from the radio, Taeil recognized as his favorite. The twenty one year old hummed along, resting his head on the other’s broad shoulder. One more dance wouldn’t hurt (even though his feet already felt like they were bleeding)

 

Johnny felt as the elder’s body got heavier and his breathing evened out considerably. The last thing he saw on the night of his wedding, was a bright full moon afloat in a curtain of navy blue.

  
“ _Goodnight, Moon._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And he willll be loved :'') Johnil is my #1 married couple in NCT 4sure. on a more important note, yeah time frames exist in this story, but I'll never explicitly state it. You'll get the a better idea of the concept the more I post, don't worry! Drop a comment, I love reading them uwu -Hoshi

**Author's Note:**

> tell me who you wanna see more bc every chapter is ________ centric, but i think the next chapter will either be taeten or taeil. the title was in fact a spin off of "we go up" and i'm v proud of it thanks.


End file.
